


Purpose

by aanau



Series: percy jackson the writer [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Writer!Percy, happy endings, percy pov, post-tartarus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aanau/pseuds/aanau
Summary: "A trip through the darkest depths of hell isn’t a great romantic getaway for you and your girlfriend. But I’d at least give Tartarus a solid five star review for an experience you’ll never forget."Percy returns home after Annabeth's suggestion that they would benefit from some space. They need time to heal, and it's not easy, but maybe there's some hope for the future. Nothing makes sense and nothing seems to matter, but Percy's many journals logging his experiences over the years provide an opportunity to turn those feelings around.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Series: percy jackson the writer [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851718
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure stuff like this has been written a ton, but everyone has their own spin, so here's mine, with the inclusion of my writer!percy headcanon (my excuse for writing this long ass one-shot). I might be playing with canon a little, too, because I don't remember most of HoO (and kinda take all of Rick's canon with a grain of salt). I'm also writing under the assumption that everything is much darker than the books portray things (due to kids being the target demographic), so Tartarus and two wars would be a much bigger yikes for Percy and Annabeth's mental health than it gets credit for.
> 
> I have a lot of fun using Percy's POV. It was a big influence on my writing style growing up, but I still have my own voice, which I bleed into now and then. I'm operating under the assumption that without the constraints of being appropriate for the target audience, Percy is able to be a lot more open and real about things. I'm channeling Percy and he told me so lol.

A trip through the darkest depths of hell isn’t a great romantic getaway for you and your girlfriend. But I’d at least give Tartarus a solid five star review for an experience you’ll never forget. And yeah, it did bring Annabeth and I closer than ever before, so sure, I take it back. Five star destination vacation for any new couples. 

When I say closer than ever, I mean pretty much inseparable. I get why that might sound super sweet and romantic, but when you’re both constantly at the edge of a complete mental breakdown and are the only ones holding each other back, it doesn’t feel very sweet. 

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because I would’ve lost all semblance of sanity if not for Annabeth, and I’m sure she feels the same way about me, but it puts a constant strain on you and your relationship. If Annabeth’s not the one needing my help through a breakdown, it’s the other way around. It’s like escaping Tartarus meant nothing, because we still felt like we never left.

To be honest, I’d been feeling like everything I had ever done meant nothing, which I get is probably selfish of me to feel. But I’d saved the world twice, fought two wars, and I knew nothing would ever stop. I know it sounds bad, but I thought I had scored enough karma points with the Fates to finally get some peace of mind, to just kick back for a while. 

Life doesn’t work that way for a demigod.

People like Charles, Michael, Silena, Zoe, Leo, all of my fellow campers who died in the two wars were on my mind more than ever. It seemed so unfair that they had to die, and also unfair that we had to keep living. 

I’ll try not to be a total downer, but I warned you from the start that a demigod’s life is rarely safe, happy, or peaceful. You die in nasty ways and see things you can’t unsee. It’s hard not to be a party pooper when you’ve seen it all, experienced things no demigod, and not even the gods, have experienced. And it’s hard to keep a grip on reality when it’s like sand falling through your fingers and slowly burying you. 

ADHD and trauma do  _ not _ mix well. Keeping track of time and the world around me was extra difficult. So it was  _ some _ vague amount of time after we won against Gaea, maybe a few weeks, and had spent that time recovering at camp. 

And we were not adapting well. Apparently we were “a danger to ourselves and other campers,” so Chiron called us into the Big House to discuss. He cited a bunch of incidents where Annabeth and I went into what we nicknamed “Tartarus mode,” and almost hurt other campers out of defense, or got ourselves hurt. I was still sore from the last incident where I regained my senses with Jason holding me down, his knee digging into my back and my arms bent awkwardly in his grip, and Piper using her charmspeak on Annabeth to calm her down. I hadn’t remembered what I was experiencing other than the need to protect Annabeth from whatever threat I thought there was.

“We need to do something about this. This can’t go on any longer,” Chiron scolded.

I didn’t really know what he was talking about but I agreed with the statement in general, so I nodded. 

Annabeth grumbled next to me, “It’s not like we’re not trying.”

I heard the frustration in her voice and grabbed her hand. She took it without hesitation. 

Mr. D grunted in the corner, reminding me of his presence. 

“Why’s Mr. D here?” I asked accusingly.

Chiron looked to Mr. D for his response.

Mr. D rolled his eyes and swirled his coke can around, “I’m a counselor. I’m required to be here. Whoop-de-doo.” 

Chiron cleared his throat and turned back to Annabeth and me. I didn’t trust Dionysis. I got the feeling he had other motives for sitting in. But then again, the gods had ulterior motives for everything. 

Three sets of eyes were trained on me, and I straightened, “What?” 

Annabeth put her hand on my arm, “Chiron mentioned your mom and you must’ve zoned out.”

“What about my mom?” I asked quickly.

“I contacted your mother. I’m sending you home,” Chiron explained, probably for the second time. 

I could see why I zoned out. I hadn’t spoken to my mom at all. I left her that voicemail probably months ago. I felt guilty. It wasn’t like me. I just never even thought to contact her when the war ended. I wish I had a better excuse than “I forgot.” Which technically would’ve worked a few months ago, but now that my memory had returned, it didn’t slide.

“What’d you tell her?” I asked.

“That I’m sending you home a week early for the summer. Camp isn’t giving you what you need right now.”

I cringed. My mom knew nothing about where I’d been for almost a year, and then she gets a message from someone else that I was safe at camp? I deserved the Worst Son Award. 

Chiron continued, “There are too many triggers with all the excitement of rambunctious demigods and activities centered around combat training. When a reaction to the trigger occurs, the environment encourages violent means to control the situation. And with the one year anniversary of the Titan war, there will be even more upsetting reminders on top of the aftermath of the Giant war.”

Annabeth and I both bowed our heads at the thought of our fellow campers we had lost. It would also be our own anniversary as a couple, and my birthday, making it one seriously emotionally complicated day. 

But then the point of Chiron’s speech hit me, and I jumped to my feet. 

“Wait, you’re sending me home? I can’t leave Annabeth!”

“You need to, Percy,” Annabeth pulled me back down.

I scanned her face for any sign that she was uncomfortable with this decision. She was struggling, too. I couldn’t leave her. Especially with the upcoming anniversary.

I flashed back for a second to the time in Tartarus where she thought I abandoned her, because of some stupid curse by the arai. She had sounded so broken and confused, calling out for me wondering where I’d gone when I was  _ right there _ . I refused to let her feel that way again. 

“You need to go home where it’s quiet and you have your parents.”

“What about you?” 

“I’ll be fine.”

I shook my head, “No. Not happening.”

Annabeth snapped back, “Yes, it’s happening, Seaweed Brain! You’re falling apart here. And honestly, I think we need space from each other.”

My heart sank. “What do you mean?”

She pursed her lips. 

I repeated the question.

“Percy,” she started, and I knew I was in for it. I withdrew my hands and got into a defensive position. 

“Percy, it’s okay. I’m not breaking up with you or anything. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” I affirmed.

She nodded, “I just think this is the best thing for us. For a little bit. I’m going to visit every weekend. Sally said I could stay over. And soon we’ll be starting school and I’ll be even closer to you in the city with my boarding school and all. But…”

She scanned my face.

“Annabeth, whatever it is just tell me! I can handle it!” 

She flinched and I instantly regretted raising my voice at her. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” she assured before continuing, “We can’t live like this. We can’t be glued at the hip and be so codependent. We’ve tried a bunch of different strategies to help us get past everything and function normally, but nothing works! The next best option is to give us space. I think being around each other nonstop only increases our stress.”

I wanted to punch a wall. I had tons of nasty things I thought of saying to her, which made me feel like a huge jerk. I thought it was unfair of her to decide we didn’t need each other, when I knew that wasn’t true. 

“Percy I just want what’s best for you,” she said, like she read my mind. “I think this is it. I think you need your parents and to get away from me.”

I met her eyes. “Is that it? Do you feel like you’re too much for  _ me _ ?”

As quickly as my resentful feelings came, they went, at the thought of Annabeth resenting  _ herself _ . I knew how much she blamed herself and felt like a burden every time I needed to calm her from a panic attack or make her take better care of herself. 

She didn’t answer. This was all too complicated. Too many conflicting feelings that didn’t make sense. I wished there was a guidebook for all of this. I wouldn’t read it, but Annabeth would and let me know her findings.

“We’re a team, Annabeth,” I said, “Whatever we go through we can get through it together. We always have.”

“And we’ll get through some healthy distance, too. We can’t keep being totally reliant on each other. We need to learn how to cope on our own.”

“What if—“ my heart dropped.

“What if what? What’s wrong?” She said gently. 

“What if I go all Tartarus mode and hurt my parents?”

“It won’t happen,” Annabeth gripped my hand. 

“How do you know?” 

“Well first off, your sword doesn’t work on mortals anyway, and there aren’t any major sources of water. Second, you won’t be exposed to as many triggers or stressful situations, and your mom knows how to calm you down if you do have an issue. It’s not like here, where you get triggered and then have a bunch of armed demigods coming at you trying to solve the problem, and resorting to force when you get scared and lash out.”

I nodded. I still didn’t like the chances, since I could still hurt someone by thrashing, or if I was really determined I could tap into my inner plumber and flood the apartment. Or worse, with my newer, Tartarus-found abilities I could—

I stifled a shudder and accepted her logic. It would take a major trigger to make me act out that extremely, and even at camp I haven’t run into something that made me lose control that much. I was probably being too hard on myself, thinking of the worst possible scenario that just wasn’t likely. 

“And third,” Annabeth continued, turning my head to look at her, “I believe in you.”

I smiled, “Thanks.”

She kissed me then pat my cheek playfully. 

—

“So why do you think Dionysus was there?” I asked on our walk back to the cabins.

Annabeth pursed her lips. 

“I don’t want to risk getting smited,” she said. “We’re already on the gods’ watchlist.”

I paused and stared at her, causing her to stop walking and turn around in confusion.

“He wanted to keep an eye on us.”

Annabeth looked around then nodded, “I think so. You...understand why, right?”

The gods were afraid of us, and they knew we didn’t fear them as much as we should. It’s hard to fear the gods when you stared into the face of the primordial personifications of Misery, Chaos, and Hell...and survived, even bested some of them. 

Annabeth stepped close to me and said in a low, stern voice, “We’re too powerful for them, Percy. Yeah, they could get rid of us if they really wanted, but we’re too valuable. They want us on their side for the next time they need us.”

My face must’ve darkened significantly, because Annabeth faltered back slightly. I hated when I scared her like that, like I’d turn on her and go down a dark path the way Luke did, but no matter how angry I got, I’d never allow that to happen.

I tried to soften my expression, even if it took away from the biting remark, “They want us to be obedient, useful pawns ready for their disposal.”

Annabeth nodded, her jaw tight. She was mad, too. 

“Mr. D is keeping tabs on us. Making sure we aren’t bitter enough to turn against them. They’re probably deciding whether it’s better to keep us alive as powerful allies, or killing us to prevent that possibility of us starting another war.”

I knew I considered way more often how Luke was right about the gods, but I also wouldn’t plot against them. To start another war, cause more death and destruction to the world, humans and demigods alike. I couldn’t possibly. No matter how angry I was. 

But I was curious about how Annabeth felt. We were aware of our mutual resentment, but it went undiscussed. We fought on the side of the gods for two wars, losing many friends along the way. To openly question our belief in what we fought for felt like a taboo subject. 

“And...what do you think about that possibility?”

This time, Annabeth’s expression darkened. Her voice somehow got even more stern. Icy, even. 

“Zero percent chance, Percy. Whatever I feel towards the gods isn’t worth the damage. Understand?”

She probably thought I was considering it, so I held up my hands quickly in defense, “I know, I know. I agree!”

She still looked skeptical, so I grabbed both her hands and held them close, “I promise I feel the same way. You need to know that.”

She sighed, “Okay, good. You scare me sometimes.”

I tried not to look or sound as heartbroken as I felt, “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to.”

“You’ve just always been very unpredictable. And I saw parts of you down there that I never knew were there. You know how much uncertainty scares a child of Athena.”

I nodded and swallowed, “Okay, how do I be better?” 

Annabeth smiled, her eyes watery, “Just...try not to keep me in the dark of what’s going on in that kelp brain of yours. You can keep me on my toes like you always have, but don’t sweep the rug out from under me again.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. 

We walked to my cabin to get some time alone together for the last time for a while and pack my stuff, and we headed to the camp entrance. Argus was waiting with his car, along with someone else familiar.

Annabeth and I quickened our pace and called out together, “Grover!”

Tears shot out of the satyr’s eyes. “Peeeeeercy! Annabeth!” He bleated and ran forward with open arms, capturing us in a hug.

“Good to see you, G-man!” I beamed.

“We’ve missed you! Where’ve you been?” Annabeth poked at his horns, which had grown larger since we last saw him.

“Well I’ve been helping all the displaced nature spirits from the giants and Gaea’s rising. It’s been pretty crazy, but I doubt it holds a candle to your end of the war,” he looked at us with total sympathy. On anyone else I would’ve taken it as pity and been annoyed, but Grover knows us. He knows we’re tough, and he knows how we operate. Even more so with me, with the empathy link and all.

Which reminded me that Grover was probably freaking out when we were in Tartarus, if it even worked while we were down there. 

Naturally, he pretty much read my mind. If there was one thing annoying about the empathy link, it was how it was way more specific when we were close to one another. 

“I felt flashes of what you were feeling and going through. I even had some dreams. It was only glimpses, but it was awful. I’m so sorry, you two. You guys didn’t deserve that at all, but of all the people in the world, only you two would ever make it out like you did. I’m so proud to be your friend,” he choked out. 

I brought him back in a hug and rubbed circles in his back as he sobbed. 

“S-sorry I couldn’t be there for you guys,” he cried.

“You’re here now, buddy,” I comforted.

“Right!” Grover pushed me back. “And you shouldn’t be comforting  _ me _ , Perce. I’m here for  _ you _ guys. I’m gonna bring you to your mom’s, and then I’m gonna stop by yours and Annabeth’s places as often as I can! Once, twice, three times a week!”

“Let’s not get too crazy,” I laughed, knowing he was a busy satyr and new Lord of the Wild, but the thought of him making time for us still made my heart warm. I missed the guy. I didn’t want to make him feel obligated, though.

I got into the car with him and watched Annabeth get smaller on the horizon. 

—

The door flew open and before I could process anything, I was being wrapped up in a hug. I stiffened, I wanted to break free of the grip, but I smelled cookies and relaxed in my mom’s arms. She was such a petite woman that it must’ve looked silly the way I bent down so she could cradle me. 

I barely choked out, “Mom…”

“Percy, oh gods, I thought—“

And she started to sob into my shoulder. Grover stood awkwardly by as we reunited. After enough tears had shed, we were corralled inside by Paul, who I only just noticed. 

I sniffled and wiped my tears and shook his hand, where he pulled me into a hug as well. My mom also gave Grover a big hug, then hustled into the kitchen.

Two seconds in the apartment and my mom was shoving a tray of blue cookies into my face. 

“Percy, here, Honey. Take one.” Her anxious eyes flitted across my body. She had probably felt how skinny I’d gotten and was now noticing the way my sweatshirt hung so loosely on me. Or why I was wearing a sweatshirt in the summer at all. 

I laughed weakly and told her no thank you. They looked and smelled amazing, but my appetite had been strange lately. Not as bad as Annabeth’s—gods who would make sure she was eating? She was so bad at taking care of herself. 

My mom’s face crumpled a little, breaking me out of my train of worry, and I took a cookie. I handed it to Grover when she turned around. Grover gobbled up his own cookie and mine happily. 

“We’re so glad you’re here, Percy,” Paul attempted to fill the silence.

“Me too,” I said genuinely. 

My mom took my arm and guided me to the couch and sat us down. Paul took the chair, and Grover stayed standing, despite my mom’s protests. 

“Percy…” my mom began, voice cracking. Tears were streaming down her face as she kept looking me up and down, as if taking in every detail in case I disappeared again. Or maybe she could see everything wrong with me, which made me sink in my seat in shame. 

“I thought you were dead. For six months you were gone without a trace. Then I get a message from you that tells me nothing, and then even  _ more _ months later I get a message from Chiron that you’ve been at camp. And even Annabeth and Nico, who had been keeping me updated on the search for you, hadn’t told me  _ anything. _ ”

My mom never gets mad, but I could hear the tension in her voice. She may not have been  _ mad _ mad but she was definitely holding herself back from scolding me. Even though I sure deserved it. 

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said lamely.

“What happened,” she commanded rather than asked. It felt unusual for her. She never demanded information from me, and in turn I came to her with things when I was ready to talk about them. But I don’t think I’d ever be ready to talk about  _ this _ . I unconsciously looked to Grover for help.

Grover cleared his throat, “We, um, had another war. Percy and Annabeth and few other demigods were part of another great prophecy. Hera wiped the memory of Percy and this kid Jason from the Roman demigod camp and switched them so the two camps would unite. Then they had to prevent them from going to war with each other instead, and all of the monsters were raising from the dead, and G—erm, the Earth Mother was reawakening and they had to prepare to fight her. And before the battle they fell into...into…”

I couldn’t tell if Grover was just having trouble saying the name out loud like he always did, or felt uncomfortable saying it in front of me, but I much preferred to say this part of my own terms anyway.

“Tartarus. Annabeth and I fell into Tartarus. We were there for like...eighteen days I think? Then we had the Giant battle, and ever since it ended, Annabeth and I have been pretty out of it. Nico was in Tartarus before us, so him too. That’s why you haven’t heard from  _ them _ . But I was just really stupid, Mom. I should’ve contacted you right away but…”

“Percy, oh my goodness,” she interrupted. Her face was covered by her hands. I could barely hear her through them. She sighed and uncovered her face to look at me with a stern expression, “Do not apologize or feel guilty. I can’t believe…”

Her expression crumpled again, and she hugged me, “I can’t believe what you’ve been through. I-it’s not fair. It’s not fair to you. You didn’t deserve any of this. I’m so sorry, Percy, I’m so sorry.” 

She cried and planted kisses on the side of my head between each sentence. 

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I said.

“I’m still sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you. That I can’t protect you.”

“Don’t.” 

“I know, I know, I just...I’ll do anything and everything I can possibly do, you know that right? Anything you need I’ll do it for you. I promise, Honey. You’re going to be okay.”

I sneaked a peak at Paul, who sat with an unreadable expression. He probably had a lot of questions that he knew couldn’t be asked right now, and he didn’t want to impose on my mom and me. But when I made eye contact with him, he took it as an invitation and sat on the other side of me on the couch and joined our hug. 

“Percy, I don’t understand everything that has happened, but I’ll be there for you, got it? I’ll do everything I can to understand and do what’s right by you.”

I mumbled a “thank you” and shook a little with another sob, but I contained the rest of my tears. 

“I love you, Percy,” Mom said.

“I love you, too,” I said. Paul and I hadn’t gotten close enough for comfortable I-love-you’s, yet, but I felt it, so I added, “I love both of you so much. Thank you.”

Their hugs tightened. I’m glad it was Grover with us and not one of my other friends watching me cry into my parents’ arms. I didn’t feel embarrassed around him.

After our emotions evened out, my mom and Grover went back into the kitchen. I figured they were going to talk about me, which I knew was probably necessary, but I hated the idea of it. I wanted to know what they were saying, but I also didn’t. None of it would be good. 

Paul must’ve sensed my anxiety. He clapped his hands on his legs probably to get my attention, “Welp, Percy, if you want to talk about anything I’ll listen, or if you don’t wanna talk about anything, that’s okay too.”

“Thanks, Paul. I don’t think I’m really ready, yet. I’m sorry. You must be pretty confused,” I absently rubbed the back of my neck.

“Well, yes and no. I’m an English teacher, so I’m familiar with Greek mythology, and I’ve done more in depth reading of it since you told me about your world. But I still don’t fully grasp the reality of it all. I wish I had a better understanding of what it actually  _ means _ for you guys, but I’ll never stop trying.” 

I nodded. 

“I mean, Tartarus. That’s...so intense. There’s hardly any details in literature on what’s actually down there, just that it’s where all of the worst monsters and titans go to get tortured. I can’t believe—“

He trailed off, and I realized I probably had a pretty obvious reaction, because he looked at me apologetically before continuing. 

“Anyway, it’s a lot. Whatever you need, let me know. How’s Annabeth?”

I stiffened, and my heart sank to my stomach. How  _ was _ Annabeth?  _ Where _ was she? Was she hurt? Had someone taken her? My mind went totally blank and all I could focus on was that I had to make sure she was okay. One thought led to another and it was snowballing farther and farther from reality to the worst case scenarios. I felt like I was back in Tartarus or in the middle of a battle even though logically I knew I was in my New York apartment.

I stood up and held Riptide in my hand, thumb against the cap ready to push it off at a moment’s notice.

“I don’t know,” I said to Paul, who was probably scared and on high guard at the appearance of my seasoned battle persona, though I couldn’t waste time comforting him or softening my expression when I needed to locate Annabeth. 

My mind raced trying to assess the situation with as much clarity as it could muster. 

_ I am in New York. Annabeth is always with me, but she isn’t now, which means we got separated. What separated us? A monster? Did she get lost? I need to retrace my steps. If I was in my apartment, then I had to have come up the stairs, and before that I either came by taxi, walked from downtown (left out of the apartment) or from the nearest school district (right). It made more sense that we came by taxi, meaning she could’ve been stuck in a vehicle manned by a monster or a god who wanted something from her moving at max speed going in any direction they wanted.  _

My mind picked the worst option, the one with the most hopeless chance of tracking her down, and it ran with it. Next thing I know, I was back at the sidewalk outside my apartment with my sword drawn, looking for a single sign of a monster. 

Grover appeared behind me. I turned to him with relief and determination. 

“Grover! Good! Can you smell anything?”

“Uh, Percy…”

“What is it?” 

“Percy, are you...looking for Annabeth?”

My grip on Riptide tightened. The tone of his voice was off, it was that kind of tone he got when he knew something I didn’t, something usually devastating. 

“You know where she is?” I said, my voice tight. 

Grover’s tense shoulders relaxed, and he put a hand on my shoulder. I shook it off. 

“Annabeth is at camp. She’s fine. She’s going to visit this weekend, remember? You both discussed it.”

I said a really smart thing like, “Uhhh?” 

My mom was standing a few steps behind Grover, her arms crossed tightly against her chest and eyebrows furrowed. She stepped forward, and seeing her made my grip on Riptide relax. 

“Honey, you and Annabeth decided you should come home. We can give her a call. Come inside and we can talk to her.” 

“Um, okay?” I followed them back up to the apartment and watched my mom dial the phone unblinkingly. Paul and Grover hovered in the kitchen door frame. I felt really stupid, trying to piece everything together into something that made sense and coming up empty handed. 

“Hello Chiron, this is Sally Jackson. Can someone fetch Annabeth for me, please? Percy would like to speak to her.”

She was calling Camp’s landline, the only phone most demigods ever touched. Annabeth was safe within Camp’s magical borders. No monsters would be anywhere near her. 

She handed the phone to me and I put it up to my ear and waited, holding my breath. 

I heard some rustling and then, “Percy?”

“Annabeth! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, kinda. Not really. But I’m safe. You made it home?”

“Yeah, I’m home.”

“Good. Gods I’m already falling apart here without you,” she near whispered before hastily adding, “but this is good! This is good for us! I’ll see you Friday. I promise.”

Promise. I knew that there’d never be a single empty promise between us. So she was fine and I’d see her Friday. My heart slowed down and my worry dissolved, or rather, returned to its recent low level baseline. 

I chuckled nervously, “Uh...what day is it today?” 

Annabeth paused on the other end, equally lost, and my mom offered up the answer. I relayed it to Annabeth.

“It’s Tuesday.”

Annabeth sighed, “Okay, so two and a half more days. Easy. We got this. I love you, Percy.”

I smiled, “Love you, too. Did you have lunch?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Okay, well go to the dining hall and get something. Even something small like an apple. Promise me.”

“Ugh. Fine, yeah. Piper and Malcolm warned me they’ll be on my case when you’re not around. So don’t stress over me, okay? I can take care of myself. I got two people here to make sure I do.”

“Good. I expect glowing reviews all around.”

“You got it. Now let me talk to your mom. I owe her an apology.”

I handed the phone over to my mom, who I realized had been watching me intently as I spoke to my girlfriend, which made me blush a little. 

She didn’t take her eyes off of me as she said into the receiver, “Hello? Annabeth?”

My mom’s eyes sparkled and a smile broke out on her face. My heart tugged as she cradled the phone close to her and she gushed, “Oh sweetie, I’m so glad you’re okay...No. No, don’t apologize...Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for...You brought him back I can’t ever thank you enough...No I could never...I could never blame you, you stop that!”

My heart sank. I wanted to rip the phone away and tell Annabeth to stop blaming herself for Tartarus, but my mom was doing fine and I figured hers was the only voice at the moment who could properly talk sense into her. 

My mom continued, turning away from me, “Annabeth you’re the most wonderful girl I’ve ever met. You’ve done so much for me, and for Percy. Take care, and go easy on yourself. You deserve the world...I can’t wait to see you this weekend...Okay, Honey...Okay. Bye, Sweetie.”

There was a click and a beep and my mom turned back around and put the phone back in its port on the counter. She leaned over the marble surface and stretched out her arms, not breaking eye contact with me as she collected her thoughts. 

It was catching up to me what happened in the last ten minutes or so and I felt my face get hot. I had hoped to get through at least one night before my mom had to see me totally lose it. 

“Mom, I—“

She lifted a hand, “Up-up-up. Honey. You  _ jumped _ into Tartarus  _ with _ Annabeth?” 

I gaped. It took me a second to get the words out. 

“Mom, I’m so sorry, I—“

“Stop. Percy, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you.”

“You...are?”

She ran a hand through her hair, “Of course I sure  _ wish _ you wouldn’t throw yourself into danger, but the fact that you followed Annabeth into Tartarus to  _ protect _ her...I’m so proud.”

She met my eyes again, her own crinkling in a warm, watery smile, “So proud.”

I fiddled with my thumbs, feeling a lump in my throat, but forced a laugh through it, “Well, you know Annabeth doesn’t really  _ need _ protection.”

I swallowed back tears, remembering the moment she slipped away from me and started barreling towards the pit, Arachne’s webs secure around her ankle and her words whispering her damning curses into our ears, and how I knew Annabeth was going down no matter what. Tartarus would have her...but that meant it’d have me too. 

“I just...I knew that we had a better chance of survival  _ together _ . We could get through anything. I couldn’t let her...go alone. I couldn’t—“ I choked up. I turned away with both my hands running through my hair, trying to hide my face and distract myself from crying. 

I felt my mom’s hands on my shoulders turn me to face her, “I know, Honey. You did good. You’re a wonderful man.”

I nearly laughed at that. I wasn’t even seventeen yet and she was calling me a man? I still got acne. But then it registered that it was a compliment, not a joke, or a comment on my actual age.

I guess I had grown up. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. It wasn’t really my choice. I would much rather be a kid, but demigods barely got to be kids. Let alone the demigods who have survived the past two wars. I don’t think I see any of my surviving friends as the children they are anymore, I just never thought about it. It was sad and unfair. 

On one hand, being seen as an adult when I was still very much a kid was harrowing. On the other, with all I had endured, it was validating. If my mom referred to me as a boy, I’d feel belittled and like all of my experiences were nothing in the grand scheme of things. But by referring to me as a man, she forced me to acknowledge all I had gained, but also all I had lost. And it mattered. 

Yeah, I guess I had grown up. But that didn’t stop me from crying like a baby into my mother’s shoulders for the second time in less than an hour of being home.

—

The next two days were a blur, but everything lately felt like that. Mom forced meal after meal on me and eventually I started to regain my appetite. It was hard to resist her cooking. 

She also told me about her newest book idea, one she had barely been able to work on since I disappeared. I sat down with her and watched her type with newfound motivation. I decided to join her and break out my notebook to write, ‘hidden’ under the mattress as always. I flipped to the last entry, all the way back in December. 

It made me mad, seeing how hopeful and happy eight-months-ago Percy was about making his way through sophomore year, his second year in a row at the same school, without a hitch. With Annabeth and him ready to put the Titan War behind them. Eight-months-ago Percy was so optimistic, which was funny because I was pessimistic to a fault. So to see myself at my best when I was currently at my worst was like the Fates kicking me while I was down. 

I stowed the notebook away with all the other ones I accumulated over the years in a box in my closet, having half a mind to just burn them. But I didn’t want to erase the proof of everything I’d been through. I knew I’d regret it.

I also spent time with Paul when he got home from work, where he was preparing for the school year. We used to do all that cliche father-son stuff, like head to the nearest park to play catch or basketball. It was the cliche kind of normal that I craved to counteract the demigod side of things. But now, we settled for watching TV together. 

I had to be reoriented and calmed down from panic attacks a few times, to be reminded that I was safe and that Annabeth was at camp, but nothing extreme like trying to cut my parents’ heads off happened. It was hard, but Annabeth was right about the atmosphere being so different from camp. I did develop some weird quirks, though, like every time I heard someone out in the hallway or upstairs, I had to go check and then do a sweep of the apartment. Otherwise, it was a boring, though anxious, two days hanging around the apartment, but it was just the type of boring I needed. 

Then Annabeth arrived Friday night, and it was the biggest relief. We jumped into each other’s arms like it’d been years, but our relationship felt stronger than ever.

My parents both wrapped her in a hug, and I was reminded how much time Annabeth had spent with them while I was missing. She didn’t have a great relationship with her own mortal family, and I could see on her face how much it meant to her to have this. It was something I was more than happy to share with her. 

We had dinner, where Annabeth had both me  _ and _ my mom with watchful eyes to make sure she ate enough. Then we sat on the couch and watched an easy and fun romcom. We made plans to walk to the park the next day, which made us nervous about being out in public around mortals and possible monsters, but I was also excited to spend time as a family outside of the apartment. 

Mom and Paul let us share a bed. Mom was uneasy, but Paul vouched for us.

“Sally, if they’re adult enough to fight a war, they’re adult enough to share a bed.”

My mom, probably remembering our discussion a few nights ago, agreed and gave us the typical “no funny business you two.” 

I fell asleep way easier than I had the past three nights, knowing Annabeth was by my side. Annabeth apparently did not share the feeling. In the middle of the night, I heard the door creak open followed by my mom’s voice.

“Annabeth? What are you doing awake, Hon?” she whispered. 

I groaned tiredly and looked around to see Annabeth sitting straight up on the bed next to me. She shied away from my stare.

“‘Beth…” I started.

“Sorry, Sally,” Annabeth said, and I realized she was gripping her knife. She relaxed and put it back on the nightstand.

I sat up and wrapped her in a hug. My mom came and joined, flicking on the desk lamp.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, caressing Annabeth’s arm.

“She was keeping watch,” I explained. 

Annabeth blushed, “Sorry. It’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid,” I said more harshly than I intended. I just didn’t like when she beat herself up. 

My mom saved me with her softness, “I understand, Sweetie. You probably didn’t feel safe, right? You wanted to make sure everything was okay while we were all sleeping?”

Annabeth nodded. 

“I appreciate that you want to protect us, but that’s not your responsibility. You don’t have to put that kind of pressure on yourself. We want you to feel safe and comfortable so you can heal. Is there anything I can do to help make that happen?”

I shot my mom a grateful look. She was so good at this kind of stuff. 

Annabeth sniffled, “No, it’s my own problem. I just don’t like to sleep anyway, but I get more anxious when I’m the only one awake.”

Annabeth never really liked to sleep. Her mind was too busy. It raced and she stayed up working or thinking until she just couldn’t anymore. Now, add a fear of nightmares and being attacked while vulnerable to the mix, and she did everything she could to avoid it. 

I hugged her tighter, “I’ll be right here the whole time, and I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”

“Promise,” she nodded. 

Mom got us some water before wishing us a good night. Once she was gone, Annabeth started crying. She mumbled some barely coherent things between sobs about Leo and camp, and even something about Luke. 

I used to be super angry whenever Annabeth talked about Luke. I was insecure and jealous and annoyed at how she could still care about the guy who continually manipulated and hurt us. But now it just broke my heart. 

The war was a year ago. A  _ year _ . And already people were forgetting it happened at all, because it was overwritten by the new war and forgotten with all of the people who were no longer alive to remember it. 

__

We slept late, but breakfast was waiting for us. After we ate, Annabeth went to shower first, and I was left alone with my parents once again. I avoided eye contact. I didn’t need to look at them to feel their pity. Pity was the last thing Annabeth and I wanted. We just wanted normal. 

“You still feel up for going to the park?” Paul asked. He asked it so casually, like he didn’t mean it in any specific way, but I still felt defensive. I guess I was in a pretty sour mood. 

“Of course!” I snapped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Paul’s coffee mug was placed gently down on the counter. Again, it probably meant nothing, but I still felt defensive, like he was walking on eggshells around me. 

“Watch your temper, Percy,” my mom reminded me.

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of water. 

“Oh you’re going to be the death of me, young man,” she muttered.

I blatantly ignored her. I was acting like a brat, for sure, but I couldn’t bother caring. 

“We’ll have a fun, relaxing day,” Mom said.

“Yeah, until a monster decides to fuck it up like always.”

“Percy!” 

I waved my hands around, “What?! It’s true! No matter what, nothing is ever going to end for us! I don’t know why we even bother trying to make anything work! It doesn’t even  _ matter _ .” 

“It does! Things always get better, Percy. Give it some time. There’s light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Yeah, and I’ll see that light when I’m inevitably killed by a monster or a pissed off god like every other demigod! There’s  _ nothing _ , Mom. Annabeth and I will finally get comfortable, and then we’ll be whisked away into another battle because we’re the gods’ little errand-runners. More and more of our friends will  _ die _ . And we can either die, too, or survive and never stop fighting.”

The pipes in the kitchen rumbled, and there was a pop and a spout of water was pouring right into my face. I can’t get wet if I don’t want to, but I guess a part of me wanted to be miserable, so I ended up being soaked. I groaned and willed the water back into the pipes before letting my head fall into a puddle on the counter. 

My mom approached me and rubbed circles into my back. I took deep breaths trying to control my anger.

“I’m just tired,” I finally grumbled.

“I know,” she whispered. Her voice cracked. I made her sad. When was I getting that Worst Son Award again?

I heard Annabeth get out of the shower. I wondered if she heard the pipes rumbling. If she did, she didn’t say anything when she came out of the bathroom all dressed and ready a few minutes later. She wore some joggers and a denim jacket over a loose t-shirt. Her honey blonde hair was in a messy bun, the beautiful princess curls poking out. She caught me staring at her and scrunched her face at me. 

After I took my turn getting ready, we were off. The mid-August heat would’ve made us regret our choice in pants and jackets, but our battle scars across our body were still so prominent. At camp, scars were normal and accepted, but among mortals, they would definitely get some prolonged looks. 

It was nice. Things felt okay. Okay was nice. 

Somehow okay was exhausting, too. For as much as we enjoyed a peaceful and fun afternoon, we were zonked when we got back home. Mom suggested we take a nap before dinner. Instead, we laid on the bed and just talked. We talked about how difficult everything was. Then I brought up what I stupidly said to my mom that morning.

“I feel so bad saying all of that stuff. I guess I just feel like there’s no future for us. Like the only thing we have to look forward to is the next time the gods need us, and worrying about not dying in between,” I admitted.

“I feel like that, too, sometimes. Like all my planning for the future is pointless. But what about college in New Rome?”

“Yeah...I just don’t want to live there my whole life. I love camp. I love New York. New Rome is so different. It doesn’t seem fair that in order to have a long, fulfilling life Greek demigods have to abandon their home to move to New Rome and give up their culture to fit in.”

Annabeth paused. After a moment she sat up, eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see. 

“What if...we tried to expand Camp Halfblood to be like New Rome? Where around the camp was a whole community for demigods to live? A New Athens! Greek demigods could grow up and have families without worrying about being killed by monsters.”

I sat up next to her.

“That...sounds incredible. But where would we even begin? Wouldn’t that take years?”

“Yes, of course, but it’d be worth it. It would be generations before it ever reached the same level as New Rome, but we need to start somewhere, sometime. We can collaborate with New Rome and learn from them. I’ll take all of the right classes--architecture, civil engineering, business, everything! I have so many ideas. Remember how I wanted to build a temple for camp? That’s just the beginning! The first step would probably be to get more land. Then we’d have to find a way to expand our magical borders. If we just got some help from the gods and the Romans, we could make it all happen!” 

“You really think we could?”

“We won’t know unless we try. We already have so much influence and respect and even quite a few favors to cash in, you and I combined, that I don’t doubt we could really spark something amazing.”

“Guess being a pawn of the gods does have its perks, huh?” 

Annabeth grinned.

“Guess so. I mean, it still sucks. It sucks we have all this trauma and these mental and physical scars. But even though it’s painful and unfair, we can make the most of what we’ve gotten out of all of it and do something meaningful that _we_ _want_ to do. That we believe in.” 

In spite of the massive dump I’ve been trapped in, Annabeth was getting me really excited. Suddenly, eight-months-ago Percy didn’t feel like such a stranger. I told her about the journal entry, and how I had felt when I read it, and how she was making me feel about it now.

Annabeth’s storm gray eyes brightened, “Can I see it?”

“The journal entry?”

She nodded, “Or, anything you’ve written, really. I’ve only ever read little tidbits over your shoulder here and there. I’d love to see more. See more of the inside of your brain besides seaweed.”

I pushed her shoulder playfully and got up to get the box of notebooks. 

“You can read anything you want,” I said. 

She beamed, and grabbed the one that seemed the oldest. The one from when I was twelve. I had older ones from before demigod life, but they were so old and so silly to me when things got crazier that I discarded them. Mom probably kept them, though. 

She kicked back and laid against the head of the bed, gripping the notebook with excitement. 

Annabeth’s eyes darted around the page, a grin on her face. I paced around the room, anxious about her reading something really private or bad that might offend her. There were plenty of times I complained about her infatuation with Luke, or how her know-it-all attitude got on my nerves. 

She laughed, snapping my attention from the rut I was making in the floor, “Fruit-of-the-Looms? Really? You felt the need to mention that?”

I smiled, “I thought it was funny.”

“You were being chased in the dark and rain by the minotaur, and you had time to notice his underwear?”

“It’s not like I thought about it at the time, I just...when I revisited the memory later it made it seem kind of funny. It didn’t feel as bad anymore.”

She hummed and continued. She was getting to the part where I met her, and I started to kick my feet. I glanced over a few times to see her eyes sparkling. 

“You really thought I was pretty?” She finally said.

I blushed, “Yeah.”

She kept reading, and a minute later she burst out laughing.

“What?!”

She wiped a tear from her eye, “You really do drool when you sleep. I can’t believe I said that to you!”

“You don’t remember?”

“Yes I do! But I tried to forget it!”

I laughed and leaned over the bed to get closer. “I just killed the Minotaur and I’m thinking this pretty girl taking care of me while I slept was going to say something really charming or ethereal and you say  _ that _ .”

She hid her red face behind the notebook, “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be! I thought it was adorable! But like, in a super infuriating way.”

“That pretty much sums up how I felt about you. I guess someone was bound to find my emotional constipation cute at some point,” she rolled her eyes. “I remember beating myself up over it. I just didn’t know how to handle the situation! You just lost your mom and I felt bad, you were probably the person from my prophecy who was going to finally get me on a quest, and you were cute! Even when you were drooling!”

I smiled smugly, “You had a crush on me.”

She hit me with a pillow and reclined back against the bed frame to keep reading. She seemed so entertained by it. I guess I did recount things with a sense of humor. Or I exaggerated the humorous parts. I distinctly remember dragging a passed-out Grover moaning  _ ‘fooooood’ _ while being chased by a giant bull man who I just watched kill my mom being extremely  _ unfunny _ at the time. 

We spent a few hours going through the notebooks, reminiscing. The things that once were terrifying to even think about were now making us laugh. The things that once created a wedge between us were now discussed openly, like our different disagreements, or times I was a total idiot who had no idea what Annabeth was trying to tell me. 

Eventually we were both lying on the bed looking up at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. Annabeth broke the silence.

“You know, you should publish these.”

“What?”

“I said you should publish these. For other demigods. And for the demigod history books. A first hand recount of the Titan war from the hero of Olympus himself!”

“I’m not sure…”

“Why not? You have your mom and Paul to help you clean up the spelling mistakes and hook you up with a publisher.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about putting my private thoughts and stuff out there in the world.”

“That’s why you edit it. You don’t have to tell the  _ whole _ truth. You can alter details and leave parts out altogether. As long you’re not  _ lying _ and the purpose is fulfilled.”

“And...what’s that purpose?”

“To give young demigods... _ something _ . Something that keeps their attention with writing that gets them. That educates them and guides them and makes everything not seem so scary and lonely...because you’ve gone through it all and come out okay. To immortalize your experiences and teach lessons for generations to come. And when New Athens is built and thriving, your books will be handed down the legacies to remind everyone where they came from. Our friends won’t be forgotten, the gods can’t forget the promises they’ve made, and you’ll be making something...permanent.”

New Athens. Publishing books. It was all part of Annabeth’s fatal flaw, to build something better than anything else herself that won’t ever disappear. I sighed, feeling bad about bursting her bubble, but not wanting her to get carried away and end up heartbroken.

“Nothing’s permanent, Annabeth. You know that.”

“I know! I know, okay? But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to build something that lasts. If we don’t try to build something that outlives us, whether it be a family, a business, a work of art, no matter what it is, then what was the point of us ever being here?”

“Each other. Living for each other, right?”

Annabeth looked down. She nodded. 

“But you’re right,” I added. Annabeth looked back up. I leaned forward and kissed her. “If there’s something we can add to the world to make a lasting difference, why wouldn’t we? You convinced me.”

She beamed at me, “Really? Wait, you know you don’t have to start  _ now _ . I mean, we’re still healing, right?”

“Right. When you start breaking ground on New Athens, after college, I’ll start breaking ground on this epic memoir. It’ll be the next Odyssey’s Odyssey!”

“It’ll be better,” Annabeth grinned, “because it’ll have the inimitable Percy Jackson flare.” 

—

Annabeth visited again on Wednesday for a joint celebration of our anniversary and my birthday. She brought a card signed by all the campers, with lots of kind notes, even a snarky but well-meaning one from Clarisse. We went out for a fancy dinner, and she kissed me goodbye and headed back to camp. It all felt very hollow, to be honest. But it made sense. It was a complicated day. We didn’t mention anything from last year, and avoided all the parts of Manhattan where big battles had taken place. But all the avoidance of heavy topics ironically just made everything feel empty. 

After Annabeth left, there was a knock on the door, and I felt something stir in my gut. There was something powerful at the door. I drew my sword and pushed my mom out of the way before she could open it. When I flung open the door, prepared for a fight, I saw my dad. Poseidon.

“Hello, Perseus. Happy birthday,” he smiled and held up a gift-wrapped box. I just stared at him, dumbfounded. This wasn’t the first time he showed up on my birthday, but with no knowledge of any prophecies or any urgent matters that would require him to speak to me, I was wondering why he’d be here. It couldn’t be  _ just _ for my birthday. 

He pushed the box into my hand when I didn’t take it and cleared his throat, “I’m happy to see you, son. May I come in?” 

“Yes, of course,” my mom answered for me. I shot her a disapproving look, but she shot one right back at me. As if saying  _ be respectful to your father, who happens to be a  _ god _ in case you forgot _ .

Poseidon looked around the apartment with hands on his hips. He smiled at me.

“I would like to speak with you.”

“Of course you would.”

“Percy, be polite.”

Poseidon turned to my mom with lovestruck eyes, “Sally! Looking beautiful as ever. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. How are you? How’s Blowfish?”

“His name is Blofis, Poseidon. And Paul is doing very well. He’s on his way home from the store with some ingredients. I was going to get started on Percy’s cake.”

My dad nodded and turned to me before the awkward silence set in, “Shall we?” 

“Fine,” I said before leading him to my room. I sat on the bed, and he seemed to hesitate before wheeling the desk chair over and taking a seat. Having a god sit down so casually was pretty bizarre. This had to be some talk he had planned.

He clapped his hands, “So. How have you been, Percy?”

I shrugged. 

“It’s been difficult for you,” he answered for me.

“What gave you that idea?” I sneered. 

My dad sighed, “I’m sure you already know that we’ve kept an eye on you and that daughter of Athena.”

The way he mentioned Annabeth put me on guard.

“Her name is Annabeth,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Yes. Annabeth,” my dad admitted. “The girl you fell into Tartarus for.”

“Yes!” I said without hesitation. I paused. “You can’t be mad at Annabeth or anything, you know. It wasn’t her fault.”

My dad scratched his beard, a very human gesture that suddenly reminded me that he  _ was _ one of the more grounded gods. Gods like him, like Hermes or even Hades on a good day, actually seemed to be capable of changing for the better, if they just got up the courage to try. I mean, Hestia already seemed to have everything down. 

I remembered my conversation with Hermes a year ago after the Battle of Manhattan. 

_ After three thousand years, you think the gods can change their nature? _

_ Yeah. I do.  _

Despite everything, despite how angry I was and wanted to punch my dad in the face right now, I think I still did. 

“As much as Athena and I don’t see eye to eye, any blame or anger on her daughter would be misplaced. I don’t believe you children are responsible for any of the tragedy that happens to you.”

I scoffed, “Yeah, I mean, historically that honor belongs to you gods.”

To my surprise, my dad nodded, “I’m sorry, and I have many regrets. I hope that we gods will all learn some day.”

“Same here.”

“But falling into Tartarus was not our design. Believe it or not, the gods feel great sorrow for you and Annabeth.”

I blanched, “Yeah, right.”

“They do. You’ve earned their respect, Percy. You’ve done a lot for them, and you’ve proven your worth and strength. The Fates have been unkind to you. And though only a handful of us will openly admit it, the gods share most of that blame.”

“You can’t actually be saying the gods feel guilty.”

His eyes looked sad. The wrinkles around his eyes looked deeper. 

I went silent. This was too unbelievable. I mean, I’ve seen the gods act human before. I knew they  _ did _ have hearts. But they were so prideful, so unwilling to admit their mistakes and prone to blaming someone else. They didn’t like their power or control being threatened, and I had threatened it plenty of times. Sometimes to their  _ faces _ . It was a miracle I hadn’t been smited yet. Then again, that would anger my dad. 

“The gods have lost many children in the past two wars. In more ways than one. And after the Giants almost bested us, when we were near powerless for months and the fate of everything was solely in the hands of you demigods, you saved us. We’re starting to discuss the deal we made you last year in more depth. That maybe there’s more to be done besides the claiming rule. That maybe there’s more to consider beyond it. Changes are going to be made. It’ll take time, but we’ve changed before. You know how cruel we were in the past. We can keep changing.”

I was so shocked that I had nothing to say. My dad smiled and clapped me on the back. He glanced at my box of notebooks sitting on the desk behind him. He reached and picked one up. I flinched forward to grab it from him, but he wasn’t opening it or anything. Just looking at it with curiosity. He chuckled and put it back down. 

“When you need my help, let me know. I’ll see what I can do. I won’t be gifting any seawater springs, this time.”

My conversation with Annabeth. New Athens. He knew of our goals.

“Take time and care of yourself and Annabeth. You have my blessing and my love.”

He winked at me, then disappeared in an ocean spray. 

Maybe being a halfblood wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world anymore. Maybe everything would be okay. Things  _ could _ change. Things  _ could _ get better. 

I opened the gift box that was still in my hand. Inside was a conch shell, with a note that said,  _ Think about where you want to go a sound the shell to open a portal to the nearest body of saltwater. Good luck in school. _

With this I could move back and forth between the two camps with ease. That would definitely come in handy. 

The future was bright. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ((I swear I love love LOVE Annabeth and have SO many thoughts about her but I keep making everything I write Percy-centric. This needs to change. I need to write something Annabeth-centric. She deserves it.))
> 
> Time to get really meta. So I assume the books Percy publishes in this universe, aren't exactly the books we readers read. Those books were written by Rick. Within this universe, Percy has a totally different series that's HIS, not Rick's. They're similar but not exactly the books we have read. They're probably called The Demigod Diaries or something. They're more aimed at demigods as autobiographical works than mortals as contemporary fantasy. They take on a guidebook-like approach at times. They're entertaining and educational for young demigods, AND they're a recount of the Titan war and Giant war from a primary source for the demigod history books.
> 
> Anyway, I wasn't sure how unrealistic Poseidon's speech would be. The gods seem to be human enough, like they CAN change and be better if given the push. Just look at how kind and down-to-earth Hestia is. I do think Luke Is RightTM that the gods suck, but I also think they have capacity to be better. Because we've seen them be better. I wanted to write some assurance that the gods would work to be better parents, take better care of their kids, and not be so cruel and selfish. That Luke's death and the deal Percy made at the end of PJO actually did mean something in the grand scheme of things.


End file.
